Poetry First and Analysis

The mind serves me (said)
(Said) How do you know it is your
Mind? No more than the pelican's
Full of fish,
Morsels swimming in a tinny beak,
A tiny brain, and the world is like that.

But their motion belongs to the pelican?

So many swimming things will come to nothing.

Not satisfied with the proof,
But feeling a bird
Must have something to do with it,
The bird realized as a container,
Preserving itself by containing,
But reserved as to the image, standing aside
As with all images, as from all images,
Even when the image should contain
The sand and the fish and feathers,
The sea (these are not idle),
I could not help but feel he could have said
Anything, but that by the logic of these things,
I'll never know the meaning of his (said),
And whether or not a bird had something to do with it,
Whether everything makes sense
From the side of the sea.